Love in the Gist of Splendor
by xxperfectxdrugxx
Summary: Squall is a profesional model who is forbidden to have a relationship with any man to save his career. When he picks Seifer to photograph him for an upcoming project, will they throw caution to the wind? Revised and updated 8.19.09. please review.
1. One

Disclaimer: *mutters* I hate doin' this.. *ahem*... uh... They do not... I repeat, do NOT belong to me...*sigh*  
  
Warning: Like, some severe AU!!! But it's fun... yaoi... seifer x squall... ENJOY!  
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
  
Chapter One  
  
The white light was enough to blind anyone. Color featured as the backdrop of the set. Sand sprinkled with rose petals embellished the ground. A complete Picasso painting, stocked with crashing waves and dazzling sunshine to give off a romantic, tropical sentiment . Sky; cloudless and wind; minimal. And, in the middle of it all lay a man wearing low slung leather pants about his hips that seemed to cling to his shapely legs and plump buttocks. Chains wound around his right leather clad leg and two severe rips illustrating his left pant leg. He was shirtless, skin slightly tanned from the African sun, gazing up at the black camera set up in front of him.  
  
"Come on. That's beautiful, baby," crooned the cameraman, taking flashy pictures of the delectable subject laid before him. There he sat, deftly changing positions, his unruly mop of chocolate lock falling into his cloudy eyes. He gazed around at the barren landscape, and with a deep, annoyed sigh, he propped himself up onto his elbows.  
  
"Can we go now? I'm fucking tired. I've been posing for you all fucking day," he said with another sigh. He was pissed as to why he had to be sent to the hot clump of land called Africa for the photo shoot... of all places! Jesus....  
  
"No, we can't, Squall. The people at DKNY gave me personal instructions to use all the film. Turn over, would you.." he said, making a circular motion with his index and middle fingers. Letting out a displeased grunt, Squall rolled over onto his stomach. "Now, look at me." When he didn't turn to look at the camera, Mitchell, the cameraman, reached up under the disgruntled model's body and pulled him up into a crouching position, ass high in the air.  
  
"What the fuck are you doing?" Squall questioned, turning to look over his shoulder when he felt Mitchell's cool fingers leave the underside of his belly.  
  
"You know what they say, hon: sex sells, and you, my dear, are incredibly sexy. Hold still, please," he answered, catching an incredible piece of Squall's sexuality that he'd be sure to keep for himself.  
  
After a few moments of deafening silence, Squall spoke, "Why must you always fucking do that?"  
  
"Do what?" Mitchell asked, focusing the lens on Squall's nice, round ass. " You always say shit like, 'Oh, Squall. You're so sexy.' or, 'Why don't you spend the night with me in my bed tonight, honey.' Why? And you say them like you're joking, which is obviously not the case since you say them so fucking often. Why?"  
  
"Because, it helps the outcome of the pictures. And it's true. You are, in a manner of speaking, sexy," he said again, emptying out the full roll of film onto his palm. "All right, we're done. You can get up, now" Squall stood up and dusted himself off.  
  
"What time does our flight leave?" Squall inquired, plucking a rose petal out of his hair and pulling on a tight black muscle shirt. He turned around to see Mitchell eyeing him up and down with a very hungry look on his white face. Turning back, Squall started to walk. "I'm gonna go have a drink at a bar, if they even have those here. I'll be back in about an hour. That should be enough time for you to control your raging hormones and equally hard dick," he tossed over his shoulder in a disgusted tone with a look of pure malice, "Perverted bastard."  
  
Mitchell looked down at the huge bulge in his pants and blushed furiously. He then stomped over to where all his camera equipment lay and busied himself with putting shit together. "AND DON'T YOU TAKE ALL FUCKING DAY, EITHER!" he yelled angrily at Squall's back.  
  
Squall looked around the African plains, observing the dark faces all around him, hurriedly scurrying in and out of huts, sheds, and shacks, settling themselves in for the night. he looked up at the now darkening sky, spattered with stars. He had been photographing in Africa for two months with Mitchell and was getting fed up with all the inappropriate remarks his cameraman slipped him from time to time.  
  
When he was back in England, he was informed that he'd be traveling around the world doing multiple photo shoots for DKNY and was able to select a photographer who he'd be most comfortable with. Out of the six professionals, Mitchell looked the least perverted. That is, until they began working together. He figured that since Squall was young and sexy and single, he'd easily be able to fuck him if he used the right approach. But, as he established, Squall isn't easy. In fact, he's still a virgin.  
  
Squall never dated. He knew that his agent would never permit it. One reason being that it'd probably ruin his whole career and another; he was gay and wasn't shy or embarrassed about it. Homosexuals weren't really respected too much in this field of work, but Squall was requisite. Necessary, considering the kind of money he made. And he could never really get over the reality of how, he, a snot-nozed, gay teen from Balamb could ever make it big on the runways of New York, Paris, and London, much less get paid doing it.  
  
"What'll it be, sir?" asked a tall, dark, African accented man from behind the counter. He wore a light, colorful robe, a matching hat, and brown sandals.  
  
"Um, a brandy, please," Squall replied, averting his eyes away from the barman's face to scan his surroundings. His gaze rested on a table near a window of the leafy hut. Seated there were two men who were obviously flirting. He narrowed his eyes, noticing that they were holding hands under the table.  
  
"That's $6.52." Squall whirled his head around at the sound of the black man's voice. "Will you be paying cash?"  
  
"Yes," Squall answered shortly, handing the man the slightly dusty money. Holding the glass up to his lips, Squall sipped the sweet, bitter alcohol. Feeling the liquid burn the back of his throat, he looked up to see the bartender eyeing him intently. "What?"  
  
"You're an American aren't you?"  
  
"Sort of," Squall answered, feeling a little light headed.  
  
"I thought so. I saw you and your camera crew get off the plane over in Kenya. You must have a lot of money. My name is Djibbu Montazu. What's yours?" he asked extending a hand over the countertop. Squall only stared at the darkly-toned hand in bewilderment. "It's called a handshake," Djibbu said, his tone laced with amusement.  
  
"I know what it's called," Squall growled slightly.  
  
"So...What are you waiting for? Shake my hand..."he half-laughed.  
  
Squall stared at the man in front of him a moment before reaching out and placing his own hand in Djibbu's larger one. "Squall Leonhart," he whispered.  
  
"There, now, that wasn't so bad," Djibbu said, taking his hand away. "So..."  
  
"So?"  
  
"What are you doing here in Niarobi?"  
  
"........." Squall glared.  
  
"I'm just curious," came the laughing reply.  
  
"I'm doing...a photo shoot..." he answered slowly.  
  
"What are you, a model?" Djibbu asked.  
  
"Umm... yeah..."  
  
"Must be nice," Djibbu muttered, looking out of a window.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Making so much money doing absolutely fucking nothing but walking up and down a runway and taking pictures all day," he hissed, slightly angry.  
  
"It's more work than you think," Squall answered coolly, raising the glass to his lips again.  
  
"Ha, I'll bet... pfft! Americans..." he let out an exasperated sigh.  
  
"Nnh..." Squall groaned looking at his gold watch just to spite the man, "Look, it's been fun, but I gotta go," he stood up, "Uh, nice...to meet you.. I guess.." Just as Squall headed for the entrance, Mitchell, coming out of nowhere it seemed, walked up to him and grabbed his arm painfully.  
  
"What the hell are you doing? You were supposed to be back hours ago," he said, dragging Squall along with him out of the bar.  
  
"Let go of me," Squall pleaded, trying to shove Mitchell away.  
  
"Oh, no.. Not this time, you spoiled little bitch. I am sick and tired of you always trying to have your way. Now, come on. I have a taxi waiting for us at the hotel. Our flight is leaving in 30 minutes. Come on, Damn it!" Mitchell growled, still dragging Squall behind him.  
  
"Well, fuck you!" Squall yelled, gaining his footing and yanking his arm away from Mitchell.  
  
"Listen, you little prick!" Mitchell roared, putting his arm around Squall's waist and dragging him up to his tip-toes so that their faces were inches apart, "You'd better start cooperating with me before I end your fucking career permanently!"  
  
"Get off me!" Squall cried, beating his fists against Mitchell's broad chest.  
  
"You could never handle just following directions at your own will, could you?" Mitchell crooned, catching one of Squall's wrists and bringing it up to his mouth.  
  
"Stop it! Leave me alone!"  
  
"Oh, no, baby," he whispered a moment before taking one of Squall's finger's into his mouth and biting down hard onto the bone.  
  
"Mitchell! You're hurting me!" Writhing desperately in the older man's arms, he managed to knee him in the groin. Doubling over in pain, he let go of Squall. He looked up to see Squall running.  
  
"You'd better get you're ass to the hotel!" Mitchell yelled weakly before colapsing on the ground.  
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
  
Staring up at the ceiling, Squall listened to the flight attendant's voice over the intercom. "Attention passengers. Please make sure you have all of you carry-on luggage with you. The plane will be landing shortly in London, England. Thank You."  
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
  
A/N: Isn't this fun? Please...uh... tell me what you think... I've decided to try something new... do ya like it... no?... um... review so I'll know... uh... yah... thx..  
  
~Mai~ 


	2. Two

Disclaimer: *mutters* I hate doin' this.. *ahem*... uh... They do not... I repeat, do NOT belong to me...*sigh*

Warning: Like, some severe AU!!! But it's fun... yaoi... seifer x squall... ENJOY!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter Two

--Give me release

Witness me

I am outside--

The floor was packed with dancing, sweaty people. Overhead rotated a large, tinted discoball, its colour and pigmentation expanding throughout the brimful room. Over along the far wall, several dozen couples were found either kissing or propped up against it having sex. The beat of the blaring music vibrated violently under Squall's heavy, black combat boots. He wore a dark blue pair of leather pants that shaped his plump, rounded buttocks, and his chest was bare and hot in the club's interior. Trinkets and Bangles adorned his wrists while he showed off a stunning silver ring decorated his navel. His hair was highlighted with blonde streaks and he wore forgotten sunglasses atop his head. An embellishment that was definately unneeded for this occasion.

--Give me peace

Heaven holds a sense of wonder

And I wanted to believe

That I'd get caught up

When the rage in me subsides--

"Hey, pretty. You wanna dance?" came a crooning voice on Squall's right. Turning in the direction of the interference, Squall only glared at the man. "Well?" The man persisted. Squall calmly turned back to watch the moving crowd. "Asshole!" he growled at Squall and stalked angrily away. Setting his drink on the counter, Squall sexily sauntered over to the middle of the dance floor.

--Passion chokes the flower until she cries no more

Possessing all the beauty hungry still for more--

The sultry brunette swayed his lean hips, lost in contentment. Running his warm fingers through his tousled, auburn locks, he turned in a full circle. He swung his head from side to side. He wriggled his leather clad butt, teasing the men around him. Written all over his lewd and beautiful body was 'You can look, but you cannot touch.' Feeling broad, bulky hands holding his hips, Squall grinded his butt into the body behind him.

--Heaven holds a sense of wonder

And I wanted to believe that I'd get caught up

When the rage in me subsides

In this white wave

I am sinking In this silence--

"Damn," came the heated, obscure voice in his ear. His tone was low and gruff, thick with desire. He let his large hands play over Squall's hard, erect nipples, eliciting a quiet moan out of him. Turning around in the arms of the unknown man, Squall wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed his flushed cheek.

--In this white wave In this silence I believe

I can't help this longing comfort me

I can't hold it all in if you won't let let me--

"What's your name?" he whispered into the man's blonde hair, still grinding their hips together.

"Seifer," he whispered back, smirking. Squall opened his mouth, but Seifer interrupted. "Wait. Let me guess...... You're Squall Leonhart, right?"

"Yeah. How did you know that?" Squall smiled at the green eyes that bore into his own.

"I've seen you before in Details magazine. You know, the advert for, um, what was it.... Oh! Calvin Klein underwear..."

"Oh, that," Squall muttered glumly, feeling Seifer's strong arms squeeze around him.

" 'Oh, that'," Seifer mocked ammusingly, "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing...." he answered, resting his head on one of Seifer's broad shoulders. He felt Seifer's hands drift down to his buttocks, squeezing slightly as they both continued to move to the music.

--Heaven holds a sense of wonder

And I wanted to believe that I'd get caught up

When the rage in me subsides

In this white wave I am sinking In this silence--

Running his hands over the blonde's chest, Squall lifted his leg so that his knee rubbed against the obvious bulge in Seifer's pants. He looked up to see Seifer smiling down at him.

"What?" Squall asked obligingly enough.

"What's a beautiful man like you doing in a dump like this, much less, fondling a commoner like me?"

"I'm a model," Squall said coolly, staring at the older man's crown of golden locks in wonder.

"Yes, I know that. But, what's that got to do with anything?" Seifer laughed.

"I'm gay."

"Ahhh..."

"This is the only gay bar around and I'm not even supposed to be here." Squall shrugged nonchalantly.

"Say's who?"

"Say's my agent; Luigi Di Pietro," he mocked, holding his right hand high in the air as if reading invisible headlines. "God I hate that fucker"

"I've heard of him," Seifer stated, grinning ruefully, "He's the guy who ran over that million dollar poodle over in Paris, right?"

"Yeah," Squall giggled, "And the bastard got away with it, too," He trailed off looking into Seifer's jade green eyes.

"Why do you hate him," Seifer asked after a moment of silence. Squall was still gazing up at his face when he replied.

" 'Cause he's, like, always getting me these really retarded jobs, you know? Where the guy he has me sitting for always tries one way or another to fuck me. And it's like he intentionally finds these wack jobs, 'cause it always happens!"

"Well, maybe that unfortunately stinky, dead poodle will come back to haunt him one day and maybe it'll kill his sorry ass and you'll be free to hire your own non-perverted, moral agent. Just like in a fairy tale!" Seifer grinned again.

"God, I wish!" Squall stated slumping against Seifer's firm, massive chest. Unintentionally looking over at the silver clock that hung on the far wall, Squall rolled his gray eyes and cursed softly.

"What's wrong?"

"I have to go..." Squall said, breaking away from Seifer.

--In this white wave In this silence

I believe

I have seen you In this white wave You are silent

You are breathing In this white wave I am free--

Reaching for his car keys, Squall stalked towards the crowded entrance of the bar, having to side-step messy dancers and waiters. Upon approaching his car, a large black SUV made an abrupt stop behind him. Stepping out of the heavy vehicle, Mitchell slammed the door shut.

"Wat tha hell do ya think you're doin' out here?" he yelled at Squall, referring to the gay bar he exited. Deftly ignoring Mitchell's irritating persistence, Squall continued on to his car. "Hey, Squall! I'm talking to you!" Running up behind the retreating boy, Mitchell grabbed his arm roughly.

"What the hell is your problem?" Squall growled, yanking his arm free of Mitchell's grip.

"Come here you little--" Squall could smell liquor on his breath.

"You're drunk. I'd rather drive myself home tonight!" Squall sped up. "Why don't you take a day off from being a prick, hunh? Believe me, it's much healthier for you!"

"Git in tha car!" Mitchell half slurred, forcing an arm around Squall's lean waist.

"Leave me alone, you stupid dick!" He squirmed.

"Get in the--" He was cut off by loud, heavy footsteps and a baritone voice.

"I believe the gentleman wishes to be left alone." Squall looked up from his roughly cradled position to see Seifer towering over Mitchell, an angry scowl in place. Seifer loomed a good five inches over Mitchell and was highly intimidating

"Stay out of this, fuckwad!" Mitchell bellowed strongly without turning.

"Put him down!" Seifer enunciated sharply, his eyes burning into Mitchell's back.

"You want me to put him down? I'll put him down!" Mitchell snarled, flinging Squall's body to the ground so that he landed harshly on his delicate hands and knees. Turning quickly, Mitchell swung an arm and sought to strike Seifer in the face. He drew back and caught the offending limb, grasping it tightly, while with the other, he pushed Mitchell's head down to make hard contact with his knee, knocking him unconscious. He draped the limp body over his shoulder and stalked over to the SUV. Squall watched in horror and excitement as Seifer stuffed his body in the driver's seat, carefully maneuvering his head so that it rested on the steering wheel. He had made it look as though he'd passed out that way. He walked back over and helped Squall up.

"Which is your car?" he asked coolly, looking over the sea of vehicles.

"You're not just going to leave him that way, are you?" Squall inquired, worrying about the police.

"I didn't kill him. Which is yours?" He repeated. Squall led him over to a black sports car and retrieved his keys. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "I don't want your money," Seifer voiced amused.

"Oh, well... um.. thank you, Seifer" Squall uttered politely before putting the key in the ignition and pulling off. Seifer watched as the glossy car swiftly retreated.

"I will definately see you again, Squall Leonhart," he chuckled to himself before turning to return to the flashy bar.

(to be continued)

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A/N: The song I used for the club scene was "Silence" by Delirium... it's a cool song!...Seifer's made his entrance! *applause* Didja like it? hunh? didja? Lemme know! .....thx.

~Mai~


	3. Three

Disclaimer: *mutters* I hate doin' this.. *ahem*... uh... They do not... I repeat, do NOT belong to me...*sigh*  
  
Warning: Like, some severe AU!!! But it's fun... yaoi... seifer x squall... ENJOY!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter Three  
  
"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do?"  
  
My agent and I were sitting in his office going over my new assignment. I was supposed to meet this guy--Kani Toshimi , I think his name was-- to do a half-nude (only my whole bare ass sticking out) photo shoot for Gucci in GQ Magazine. I knew my eyes were bulging right out of my head when Luigi told me this. My five year contract stated that I didn't have to do any nude shots whatever the content, but when Luigi offered me seventeen point five million dollars to do it, I was reconsidering it.  
  
Now, I know it'd be kind of hard to focus on work with a fucking guy just staring at my dick, but this is a good job--so long as the fucker doesn't ever touch me or get too close. It sucks even more because they'd really distract me with some freakish offhand comment, you know? 'Nice buttocks' or 'Sexy legs...nice and plump...' Uh huh, legs that you'd want to feel squeezing around your waist, hunh? Well sorry, fuckers, but this bitch ain't free! Mitchell had to learn that the hard way when he tried to force me to go home with him a couple of nights ago. When I told this to Luigi, he fired that bastard on the spot, saying 'Squall is way too good for the company to be led around under such cheap surveillance.'  
  
And it's really hard protecting my body and virginity when a really young, good-looking guy comes along, usually another model. I have to keep reminding myself that all the guy wants is sex. That all he wants is to fuck me, then leave me. I know this sounds a bit corny and sappy coming from me, but I want to give it up to the man I fall in love with, not some slutty male-whore....  
  
Anyways, Kani came in the office and I was able to see him fully before we got started on anything. He was in his mid-forties. He hardly had any visible wrinkles and his blonde streaked with blue hair half covered his make-up flooded face. His eyeliner and blush matched his hair--blue tinted with gold--and his nails were painted pink. He wore a see-through sheer black net-pattern tank top, a big, fluffy blue scarf, and tight Perry Ellis jeans that were obviously too small for him. When he came in, he held his hands out to me and giggled. Yeah, he was a fruit and that's why I didn't like him. Luigi sent him out and me a disapproving look to me.  
  
"I don't know, but I don't particularly favor your attitude," Luigi was saying to me, his thick Italian accent clear and distinct.  
  
"Whatever," I tried to resist rolling my eyes, but I did anyway.  
  
"Look, Squall. Mr. Toshimi is a very respected artist," Luigi said lightly, pouring him and myself a cup of coffee. "He's known all around the world for his talents at creating works of art even with the most hideous of subjects. I don't see why you can't just compromise."  
  
"The guy's a fucking fag," I hissed hotly. "And anyway, I'm not working with someone who looks like they couldn't give two flying fucks about anything but staring at my dick all day. See how it turned out with Mitchell?"  
  
He looked at me and sadly nodded. "Yes, but that's because Mitchell was a hot headed American who knew nothing about sho-business. Kani is Japanese and has more sense than that." He sipped his drink.  
  
"What the hell does that have to do with anything, Luigi?" I frowned at him, then picked up and sipped my own drink. He was never too partial to Americans.  
  
"Nothing, Squall. It's just that we knew little or nothing about Mitchell from the start. Kani and I, we have known each other for three years." He put his hand on mine. "He's a good man, Squall. He wouldn't try anything, believe me." He then bowed his head and muttered what sounded like a curse in Italian.  
  
"I just don't feel comfortable around him or with him." And I didn't. Not because he was an all out fag/queen/sissy/queer or any other name you can think of for it, but because he reminded me of myself. Even though I have yet to spread my legs for some guy, he reminded me that I'm a cock sucker and it sort of felt servile.  
  
"OK," he said, rummaging through his desk drawers. He pulled out a thick book. "Come here." He motioned for me to stand by his side. I put my mug down and trudged over to him as he spoke. He opened it and I saw that this was a log of all his clients and hired photographers. He pointed to the first name and profile that appeared. I looked it over once and shook my head no. The guy was 34, red hair, brown eyes and sort of chubby at 233 pounds. His quote read, "Call me when you want your photographs come to life." That actually scared me half to death.  
  
I kept just turning pages, looking for someone I'd like to look into. Every quote sounded so godamned cliché until I reached one that said, "The world is a beautiful thing to waste. Why not catch it on film." I looked up to see the photographer's name and I'll be damned, this was Seifer Almasy's profile. I smiled, pointed to his name and looked up. Luigi was smirking at me.  
  
"Is that who you want to try?" he asked me, grinning.  
  
"Um...yeah. Is he available for next week?" I narrowed my eyes at him.  
  
"Are you sure? He's just another American." He lifted one eyebrow at me.  
  
"Yes, I am" I let out an exasperated sigh and slumped back into my chair.  
  
"If you say so," he shrugged. "I'll give him a call for you." He winked at me and continued to sip his coffee.  
  
(To be continued)  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Well, this is uh... short, but I had to get it out of the way... Just to let you know, this chapter was like half inspired by the "B-Boy Blues" series by James Earl Hardy... Those books are THE best!!! (The B in B-Boy actually stands for booty...you do the math)... anyway thankies to all those who read this piece 'o crap and reviewed... it helps... keep reviewing and I'll keep posting.... thx.  
  
~Mai~ 


	4. Four

Disclaimer: *mutters* I hate doin' this.. *ahem*... uh... They do not... I repeat, do NOT belong to me...*sigh*

Warning: Like, some severe AU!!! But it's fun... yaoi... seifer x squall...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Do you like this one?"

Do I like that one? fuck no. She looked like a fucking pig with a dick stuck too far up her ass. Her skin was much too reddened and sun burnt. Her arms and legs were skinny and resembled sticks a bit too much. She was flat chested, the pink glittery top covering only her nipples, basically all that was needed to be covered. I could see her head through her thin, strawberry blonde hair. Her black eyes looked dead even as she smiled, and she looked as though she had one too many face surgeries. I cringed when I noticed that I was able to count every single bone in her ribcage. She was only twenty one, but she looked as though she would kill over at any given moment. I'm not exactly a fan-slash-supporter of my undoing, so I more than willingly handed the photograph back with a fake, forced smile. And then I lied.

"Uhh... yeah. She looks.... different, um.."

"Well, what do you think of this one?"

"Look, Murin, I don't think now is a good time to help you choose a model for your 'magazine'. I'm trying to eat," I said, pointing to my half eaten hamburger. He smiled and stuffed the photos back into his coat breast pocket.

"Hey, Seifer, You got any business, yet?"

"Why the fuck would you ask me that?" I growled half-heartedly. "I'm sitting here with you, aren't I?"

"Uh . . . right, Seif--"

"Well, then no, I ain't got no fucking business. Shit, Murin . . ." I sighed, smoothing my hair back. I fucking hate it when he does that. He asks stupid questions that he already knows the answers to. Murin is basically the closest thing I have to a business partner. We have been trying for weeks to score business, we have even called a few known agents. They told us that they would "stay in touch". Fuck. No such luck. After a while, we decided to take off from work, hoping that maybe if we ceased to chase it, it would chase us.

Because of this time off, I have had extra time to relax, even as the money continued to drain as I did no work. I actually had a great time, dancing and grinding with a certain lewd brunette. I have seen him many times before, in many ads as I was idly flipping through (don't laugh) Out magazine. He looks even sexier in person, and he feels much better than paper. I had a field day clutching and squeezing his juicy ass, rubbing up against him. He seemed surprised that I knew his name, but then I ask myself: who doesn't? He has already done at least thirty fashion and make- up commercials in his young life, and even as he has had little publicity, when he is featured in the news, he can sure stir shit up.

I remember one article in particular that stated how he was almost raped, given the irregular circumstances. The article, and I remember the words clearly and correctly, stated, and I quote, "21 year old model, Squall Leonhart, filed a report and pressed charges against Trich Webb for 'inappropriate conduct'. The young model is suing the wealthy film maker for over 4.1 million dollars in emotional suffering." And, of course, he won the case.

As much appealing as sitting on my ass was, I was getting pretty sick of meeting with Murin every day of the week, not doing shit. My routine consisted of waking up, showering, heading off to Sulah's Diner, and helping Murin put together his so-called "breakthrough" magazine. Pretty boring shit.

My last piece of work was three months ago. Murin had found me work with a big-name agent. The guy managed those big time, money racking models, you know. But, as it turned out, the job I did "wasn't good enough", or so the bastard had said. He only paid me half the amount I was promised. I couldn't exactly bash his fucking skull in, as there were at least five beefed up bodyguards at his side. I took it like a man, sulked out of his building, and took my anger out on his silver Lexus, making sure both dents were highly noticeable.

It's not like I'm not well off or anything, because I am. My income definitely suited my taste at anywhere from fifty to one hundred-thousand a job. But, because of my being fucked over a couple of times, I sometimes regret ever having a part in show business. I figure life would be a lot easier if I had a normal job like teaching or fixing shit. The models I had always been assigned to had always made the job as hard as they could, fussing because they were too hot, or because I wouldn't let them move. That's what modeling was about, right? But, even as working had its numerous flaws and drawbacks, it was how I made a living.

"Hey, Seifer, You ever read that article about that fourteen year old boy that died in that freak car accident?" Murin was saying to me around a mouthful of french fries.

"No." I took a bite out of my hamburger.

"Well, he was driving along a deserted road, right? And suddenly, he jus' swirved off a cliff."

"Are you kidding?" I snickered, trying to muffle the sound by covering my mouth with my hands.

"That's not funny. What if it was you?" He looked serious. I still laughed.

"It ain't me. I can actually drive, thank you very much."

"Seifer, why are you so insensitive?"

"Fucker shouldn't have been driving anyway. What was he doing? Running away from home?"

"Yes, actually."

"More power to him."

"Why do you have to be such a--" he was cut off by my cell phone ringing loudly.

"Hold that thought, would you?" I stood as he grumbled. I walked over to the entrance of the diner and continued out. Looking at the caller ID, I allowed a small frown to form on my forehead. "LDP Agencies?" I pressed the talk button and lifted the phone to my ear. "Hello?

"Is this Seifer Almasy?"

"Speaking. How may I help you?" I continued on to where my car was parked.

"Yes. I would like to know if you'd be interested in working for our company on a project."

"With who exactly?"

"Sir Luigi De Pietro." That caught my attention.

"Uhh, sure. When do you need me?" I tried to sound nonchalant, when in fact, I felt like doing a cartwheel.

"Tuesday of next week. Be sure to report to LDP Agencies at half past eight. Do you know where that is?"

"Uhh... no." I pulled out a pen and random peice of scratch paper from the glove compartment. I wrote feverishly, listening as he gave me the directions to the building.

"You should only have to give your name to Kate, the receptionist, and she'll let you up to the 35th floor. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Thank you. We'll see you then."

"Alright. Bye." I hung up and ran straight back into the diner, grinning up a storm.

"Who was that?" Murin asked, watching as I put on my coat.

"That, my friend, was a guy at LDP."

"LDP? What's that?" he asked.

"A modeling agency. I've finally got work." I fished out a couple of bucks from my pocket a set them on the table for my food.

"That's good and all, but where are you going?"

"I have to make sure everything's perfect. I really don't want to fuck this one up."

"Alright. Well, good luck, Seifer."

"Thanks," I yelled back at him, letting the door close behind me.

(To be continued)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Sorry this chappy isn't as interesting as it could've been, but it needed to be written. And well, the whole delay in upadate.... well, I don't really know what to say. You guys are more than welcome to vent your feelings by reviewing! thx.

2/23/03

~Mai~


	5. Five

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[Seifer]

I stepped out of the shower and reached to grab a single towel from the rack. I had my appointment with Luigi this morning and I'd lost a bit of sleep over it. I was too excited for words. This was my first gig in several months and I wanted to be sure it was some of my very best work. I was especially excited to see what kind of figures Luigi had planned for me. He was just as wealthy as he was famous, so of course I'd jumped at the opportunity to work for him. I knew that many of the models he represented were either professionals or on their way there. There was no way this job would turn out to be a bad one. Not with all I have at stake. If I didn't start making money soon, I would start to fall behind in my finances.

I towel dried my unruly mess of blonde hair as I stepped into my slippers. I dried the rest of my body as I contemplated what to wear on such an important morning. Slipping the towel about my waist, I shuffled my way to my bedroom. I opened the double doors to my closet and opted for a white button down and dark brown slacks. Technically this was an interview. I had better look the part. I quickly dressed and headed downstairs to the kitchen in my upscale condo. After pouring myself a fresh cup of coffee, I opened the fridge to discover an empty carton of milk.

Hmm.

I saw my roommate sitting at the table. He was eyeing a newspaper intently, devouring a big bowl of cereal.

Of course..

Zell was quite possibly the worst roommate in history. Chores were not his specialty and if it weren't for me, this house would be in shambles. I'd grown used to finding empty cartons and moldy food in the fridge, but it never failed to irritate me.

He glanced up when I cleared my throat rather loudly.

"Mornin' Seif.." He took note of my attire. "Now, don't you look sharp! Big day?"

I ignored his question and held up the empty carton between my thumb and forefinger.

"Really?" I said, tossing it into the trash.

A slight blush crept across his cheeks.

I sat down in the chair across from him. My mug in hand, I reached for the paper to scan over current events.

"So..?"

Zell was watching me intently, his bright blue eyes flickering with interest. I looked back at the paper I was reading.

"I got a job," I stated coolly.

"That's great, Seifer! A good one?"

"I sure hope so." I sipped the hot liquid in my cup, hoping to feel the caffeine's effects quickly. "I got a call from an agency a few days ago."

"Which one?"

"Luigi Di Pietro."

"No way, dude! That's awesome! You goin to see him now?"

"Yep. I hope it goes well. I can't afford to lose another one."

"Damn right! I'm tired of paying all the bills." He slurped milk from his spoon. He was making a joke but it actually reminded me that he wasn't paying the bills.

"What bills have you paid in the last six months?"

"You know… the bills.."

"No, I don't know. I haven't been working and I'm the one who has been paying your half! Did you forget?"

"Oh. Yeah…" He grinned sheepishly.

"Where does all your money go, anyway?"

"It's a non-issue.."

"A non-issue my ass," I grumbled. "We're not doing that anymore. You asked for one month. It's been six."

"Ya know I had to go to Hawaii for my best mate's wedding. I was broke."

"……Six months ago."

"Psshh…." The little asshole.

He took the last bite of his cereal and wiped his mouth clean with his shirt sleeve.

"You know, we do have napkins. . ." I trailed off, half-heartedly pointing to them on the microwave.

"Yeah, but I'm trying to be less wasteful. Ya know? I've gone green." He stood to place his bowl in the sink.

"So you'd rather wear your mess on your shirt than use a few napkins..?"

"Yep."

"Why not just buy a handkerchief?" I looked at him stupidly.

"…. Why waste the money on a piece of cloth?"

"What..?" I sighed, knowing that this conversation wasn't going anywhere. I pinched the bridge of my nose and continued to sip my coffee. After a few minutes of pretending to read the sports section, I put the paper down and rose to find my shoes. Slipping them on, I glanced at the clock on the far side of the wall. 7:59.

"Well, it's been fun. I'm off to work." Zell stood and slung a messenger bag over his right shoulder. "When I come home, I'm gonna try my hand at some laundry." He gave me a cheeky grin as he passed me.

"Whatever you say…" I sighed, knowing his promise was empty.

"Bye!" And then the front door slammed shut and I was alone.

I gathered my car keys and briefcase and started to head for the door. I had less than 30 minutes to find the office.

~*~*~

I hurriedly made my way to the elevator after speaking with the receptionist. Stepping in, I pressed the floor button and leaned on the railing. 35 floors. Damn. I watched as the number slowly crept higher. The doors opened on the 15th floor and a little old man hobbled in.

"What floor?" I said.

"Ohhhh…." he breathed, peering at me through his thick bifocals, "I'm just going to the 20th, please.." I watched him take his cane and set it against the rail.

"Sure thing..' I pushed the number 20 and it lit up to match my 35. A couple of seconds went by and I noticed the man looking at me. I furrowed my brow and stared straight up to watch the floors go by. We stopped again at 19.

Damn, I was never gonna get there on time if that elevator kept stopping.

A younger man then entered the small space. He wore dark sunglasses over his face, but I could tell he was still avoiding my eyes. His shoulder length, red hair was choppy. He too was wearing a button down over slacks, but his shirt wasn't tucked. He looked messy, though he must've done it on purpose because he still looked presentable, I supposed.

"What floor?" I said, as an excuse to talk to him.

He ignored me and went to push 35 on his own, but paused when he saw that it was already lit. At the next floor, as promised, the older man ambled out and it was just the red-headed beauty and me. He opened a magazine.

And then it hit me. He must have been one of Luigi's models.

"Excuse me," I pressed, "Do you work for Luigi?"

"Yeah.." He raised his eyebrow as if to ask 'What's it to you?'

"I have an interview with him in a bit.. Any tips?"

"No…" He went back to his article.

Okay…

I wondered if all of his models would be this snobby. I wondered especially about the one he'd have me photographing.

Eventually we made it to the 35th floor of the tall building and the asshole and I went our separate ways. I found Luigi's private office and knocked. Within a minute, the door slung open to reveal the same red-head I had rode up here with.

I thought he'd gone the other way..

"Can I help you?" His tone was a bit off.

"I'm looking for Luigi." I wasn't so polite either.

"What for?"

"Why is it your business?"

"Because it is." He eyed me for a minute before I hear a voice calling behind him.

"Is that Seifer, darling?" The voice had a thick Italian accent. It must've been Luigi.

"Excuse me," I uttered as I pushed my way past the jerk at the door. Clearly he was expecting me. In the main area, there are four or five young men sprawled out over couches and chairs. Some were scantily clad and made a feeble attempt to cover themselves as I entered the room. All of them were beautiful and I knew then that they all worked for him. It was quite early and many of them were just getting ready for their own photo shoots.

Luigi came out of the back room to greet me.

"Buongiorno!" He held a strong bronzed hand out to me. I took it and we shared a firm handshake.

"È piacevole infine incontrarlo. Come siete?" I had spent the past two days learning basic Italian. He looked quite surprised.

"You speak the language?" he continued on in English.

"No, not really." I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. "That's pretty much all I know. I was hoping the conversation wouldn't go much further than that." I laughed nervously.

He studied me for a moment and his lips soon formed a smile. "Good one," he laughed. He then guided me to the back room he had come out of. On the far side of the room was a couch, and on that couch was a young man who looked all too familiar.

"Squall?" I lifted a sly eyebrow. He lifted a hand to pull his sunglasses ever so slightly down over his nose. I caught a glimpse of his cloudy eyes.

He only smiled and motioned for me to take a seat across from him. Luigi followed, sitting next to him. Squall sat with his legs crossed and arms folded, his tight jeans molded sexily over his thighs. I could make out his toned frame under his white t-shirt. The muscles in his arms jumped as he shifted in his seat. I could see a stud in his left ear and his hair was messy and full.

God, was he sexy.

"Squall requested you for his next project, Seifer." Luigi's statement jolted me out of my thoughts.

"Is that so?" I stated coolly, staring at Squall.

"I did," the auburn beauty chimed in. "Why didn't you tell me you were a photographer when I'd met you?" He took off his sunglasses.

"You never asked." I licked my lips. I could feel my throat getting dry.

He put a hand to his chin. "Do you have anything to show me? Some of your past work?"

"I do." I reached into my briefcase and pulled out several photos. He came to sit with me. I could smell him, he was so close. He leaned into me as he viewed the photos over my shoulder.

"Oh yes," he said quietly, "these are quite beautiful." He looked at me, his cobalt eyes focused on mine. I felt his warm breath on my cheek. My breathing hitched.

"I'm sorry. Am I too close?"

"No…," was all I could manage.

I wanted to fuck him. And he knew it.

"I can see the two of you will make a good pair," Luigi interrupted. I looked up to see him watching both of us.

Squall suddenly stood to cross the room. He gathered his things and made his way to the door. "I want him." He tossed me a look over his should and smirked at the hidden meaning behind his words.

And with that, he was out the door.


	6. Six

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

[Squall]

Luigi informed me over an extensive telephone call that the next destination for mine and Seifer's shoot was to be located in Hawaii. I spent the next few hours researching the destination. It was quite a beautiful place. I still wondered why I had never been. It was most likely the heavy restrictions put on me most of the time. Luigi wanted to know where I was at any given moment. He often said that I was his most important asset. I supposed I made him the most money.

Our meeting with Seifer yesterday went rather smoothly. So smoothly, that I had to excuse myself early so things didn't get out of hand, especially in front of Luigi. I was excited to be working with the blond. His cool demeanor set my mind on fire. The calm way he spoke had my heart racing. It took all of my efforts to stay put as he eyed me during our first meeting. However, I needed to put those ideas aside. This was a business engagement. We were scheduled to fly out tomorrow.

I sat with my laptop nestled between my legs as I half-listened to the television in my two bed-room flat. Reaching over to the adjacent coffee table, I found a half-empty pack of cigarettes and pulled one out and lifted it to my lips. I lit it and took a long, thoughtful drag.

Seifer Almasy.

This could be fun.

Closing my laptop, I shut off the television, and made my way to the bedroom.

---

I awoke to my alarm blaring loudly.

6:45 a.m.

It was much to early for normal activities, but I had a plane to catch. I rolled out of bed to find the lamp switch. My bags were already packed so I lazily made my way to the shower. Stepping out of my boxers, I slipped under the warm stream of water and soaped up my body.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. Entering my bedroom, I listened as my cell phone faintly buzzed. It was Luigi.

"Hello?" I spoke after mashing the talk button.

"Squall. Your flight leaves at 8:00. I need you to be on time."

I put him on speaker as I moved to get dressed. "I know. I trying to get ready now."

"My apologies, hun," He paused. I could hear him pouring his morning coffee. "I hope Seifer works out. We don't need another Mitchell on our hands now do we?"

"Tell me about it," I said, pulling a clean shirt over my head. I nearly stumbled as I pulled on my pants and tried to walk to the bathroom sink at the same time. I brushed my teeth.

"Let me know if there's anything I can do for you, Squall." I heard Luigi's voice ringing through from the next room.

"Sure thing," I yelled back, hoping the conversation would be over soon.

"Alright I'll leave you to get ready." And with that he hung up.

I sighed, running my fingers though my choppy bangs, and rinsed my toothbrush. I sauntered to my packed bags and slipped on my combat boots.

This was going to be a long day.

--

The 19 hour flight from London to Hawaii left me exhausted. I collapsed onto the waiting hotel bed, not bothering to remove my clothes or shoes. I glanced at my watch. I had a meeting in less than 4 hours.

I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep. My thoughts were filled with Seifer Almasy. On the surface, this was a meeting for business. He was to be my photographer and I his model. This was another job. I couldn't help think of the way we danced together that night at the club in London. How his big hands trailed the length of my body. We ground our bodies together and it felt so right.

I wanted him.

Maybe this was a bad idea, having him shoot me. But I was to pick someone I felt most comfortable with. Seifer was the one.

I didn't know too much about this man, other than the fact that he took amazing photos.

And that he was sexy.

I drifted off to sleep.

--

The following morning I made my way to the office where the meeting was held. When I entered the room I found several men sitting around a rather large table. Most of whom I assumed to be affiliated with Luigi. The men looked towards me as I made my way across the room and sat directly across from Seifer. His green eyes bore into mine.

"Welcome, Squall," An older gentleman to the right of me greeted.

"Thanks," I replied, pouring myself a glass of water. I could feel Seifer's eyes on me as I settled into my seat.

"Squall, my name is Alonzo. Luigi has appointed me to see that our project here in Hawaii goes smoothly." He tipped his hat.

"I figured."

"I know you've met Seifer." he gestured to the blond.

"Yes, we've met," Seifer chimed in, his eyes locked onto mine. He wore a grey suit, white shirt and grey tie. He looked stunning sitting there with his hands folded on the table.

I shifted my gaze from him to Alonzo. "What's the game plan?" I spoke rather casually.

Alonzo shuffled through some papers in front of him and found what he was looking for.

"Miss Donna Karan has designed a great line of male swimwear for the upcoming season. We need you and Mr. Almasy here to work together to develop some ads that we can publish. Miss Karan has informed me that she wants sexy, vibrant photos." He paused to look at me. "This is perfect for you Squall."

"When do we get started?" I asked simply.

"We are currently setting up the first location to be ready this afternoon." He rubbed his chin. "It's a beach scene."

I nodded my head, silently readying myself for the day ahead of me. The meeting went on as Alonzo drew power point slides to explain in detail the style he wanted for this shoot. I tuned the men out as they discussed the ends and outs of the project. I found myself stealing glances at Seifer, who was listening intently to the points being presented to him.

I was excited to work with him. From the way he looked at me, he was just as eager.

The men stood after some time and shook hands as the meeting was called to an end.

Alonzo leaned down next to me after slipping his suit jacket on, "Good luck, Hun. I want to see your best work yet." He kissed my cheek in leave.

I nodded.

Seifer stayed put as the last of the men left the room. It was just he and I.

"I'm happy to be here Squall," He said quietly, loosening his tie.

"Are you?"

"Yes. I'm happy to have a job worth doing." He rested his elbows on the sides of his chair.

"And what makes this job worth doing?" I asked with a slight smirk.

He lifted an eyebrow. He could tell I was teasing him, so he teased back. "What made you pick me?"

I thought for a moment. Why had I picked him? It was more for pleasure than for business. I couldn't tell him that straight out, now could I? "You take good pictures," I half-lied.

"Oh? And that's all?" He moved to sit next to me. He swiveled his chair so that he faced me. He didn't touch me. He only looked into my eyes. I could feel a warm blush creeping down my neck. "You blush because I take good pictures?"

My throat became dry as he softly spoke. He could see right through my façade.

"No.." I trailed off. I swallowed thickly.

He moved to brush my hair from my eyes. I shivered.

"Then why?" I wanted him to touch me, but he only withdrew his hand and folded them in his lap.

"I.. I need to go change," I said as an excuse to move away from him. He was much too warm. I could feel my pants getting tight. I had to go before he noticed it too.

"Don't be afraid of me Squall," I heard him say over my shoulder. I turned to see him lounging in his chair staring up at me. "I'm only here as your business partner. We won't do anything you're uncomfortable with. I'm not Mitchell.."

He chuckled. He knew he could do whatever he wanted with me.

a/n -- so I hate this chapter. I've been sick with the flu for a few days now and this chapter seems as choppy and delirious as I feel…

Mehh

xx


	7. Seven

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

[Seifer]

The air was quite warm today.

I stood on the balcony of my pricy hotel room finishing the last bit of a cigarette. The view from here was more than breath taking. The sand was a rich golden brown, a stark contrast to the crystal waters that rushed to meet it. I could see several children enjoying a quick match of soccer on my far left, their laughter easily heard from this distance. The frothy waters played at their feet and they danced to dodge it. Quite a ways down, I could barely make out my set where people shuffled to cover every detail.

They had placed the set at the most beautiful spot on this beach, directly in line with the sun that was steadily rising with every hour of the morning.

I had come up to my room to quickly gather my thoughts before getting to work. I had a feeling that this job would be different from all the others. It seemed that I had gotten the call from Luigi's affiliates out of nowhere, so I knew I had been personally selected for a reason.

But why?

I had my speculations. I knew it didn't have _everything_ to do with the way I photographed. It had much to do with the dance I shared with a certain brunet.

I smiled at the thought. I snuffed out the spent cigarette and walked back into the cool of my hotel room. I grabbed my keys and continued out the front door. On my way down the hall, I felt the faint buzz of my phone in my left pocket. I glanced at the caller ID and furrowed my brow when the call was displayed as "Number Unknown". I decided to answer anyway.

"Hello?" I said with a tone of annoyance at the unknown caller. There was nothing but silence on the other end. "Hello?" I said again.

"Almasy?" An unfamiliar voice eventually questioned. He sounded young, perhaps 20 or so.

"Who wants to know?" I said with an air of irritation. I hated it when folks called me private.

He cleared his throat. "The name's Keane. We've met before."

"Have we?" I queried. I found the elevator and pushed to white button to take me to the ground floor. It opened quickly. I stepped in and hit the appropriate floor button, keeping the phone to my ear. "I don't recall.."

"The redhead in the elevator…" He trailed off. "At Luigi's office."

"Oh." I said, remembering the asshole. For one reason or another, he had treated me with an amount of disrespect that I could only have interpreted as strong dislike. I was surprised to hear his voice on the other end. He sounded calm and reassuring, like he wanted to apologize for his earlier demeanor. He did not come out and say he was sorry, but I could tell that he was. But I still wondered about him. "Why are you calling me?"

"I need to speak with you," He paused. He became uncomfortable. "It's about Squall."

I could feel the carriage stop smoothly at the ground level. The doors opened and I stepped onto the glossy floor of the lobby. I glanced over at the front desk where the clerk smiled knowingly at the man before her. I made a beeline toward a comfy chair in the corner to finish up this conversation.

"Yeah?" I said simply. I wasn't in the mood to hear what I could tell was coming.

"Squall is my heart" He spoke softly. "I need to look out for him."

"And you think I'm here to do what?" I challenged, rubbing my chin steadily. He took a moment to choose his words carefully.

"There's no way to know," he sighed. I was getting a bit pissed off.

"Why can't I just be here to do my job? Like everyone else?" I practically bit out. Several people around me looked up from their newspapers and magazines. I turned to face the window.

"Because, no one's here to _just _do their job. There's always more to it." He went silent. I could tell he was mulling me over in his head.

"Are you talking about Mitchell?" I asked.

"And others," he mused.

I thought for a moment. I wasn't surprised by the fact that Squall had a number of suitors. Any man, or woman for that matter, would do anything to get him to their bed. He was known for having a body that no one could have. He was even more desirable because of it.

"Look," I said eventually, "I can assure you that Squall is in good hands. I'm only trying to get my bills paid." I hoped this would end the conversation.

"Maybe," he said quietly. And then there was nothing but a dial tone. I ground my teeth as I lowered the phone from my ear. The nerve of him.

I could understand the concern Keane felt for his best friend, but I hadn't even begun to work with the man yet. It was already assumed that I was here with less than favorable intentions. If I were to be honest, the exchange between the brunet and I seemed nothing more than a friendly dance. I couldn't see our relationship going much further than that. He was enormously famous and I was a lowly photographer trying to make ends meet.

Our worlds were quite different. Though, not different enough so we wouldn't cross paths.

I slid my phone back into my pocket and began to make my way to the waiting beach outside. I passed though the double doors and gave the doorman a nod. Slipping my sunglasses from my head to my eyes, I casually made my way to the bustling set on the far side of the beach.

"Hello again, Mr. Almasy." Alonzo smiled as I approached him. He stretched a strong hand to greet me. He had a camera in his other hand. He looked quite comfortable in a white cotton shirt that was open at the collar. His pants were of a light material to keep him cool. His casual flip flops showed off his well manicured feet. Dark tresses swept over his shoulders. He took good care of it.

"Just Seifer is fine," I countered, taking his hand into my own. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Squall sitting in a makeup chair to my left. There were so many people around him that he hadn't seen me walk up.

"Seifer, then," Alonzo repeated. His Italian accent was far less distinct than Luigi's. He smiled a warm expression.

"I see that you've started without me," I said, gesturing to the camera he held at his hip. He looked away at it.

"Oh this?" He gave a wave of dismissal. "We were only getting warmed up."

"I see that," I said, letting my gaze drift to Squall. He looked incredibly sexy from where I was standing. He sat with his legs crossed at the knee, his hands resting in his lap. His eyes were half-closed as a woman worked to add a sheer color to his lids and cheeks. I couldn't tell he was wearing makeup, but I supposed that was the point.

"He's doing so well today," I heard Alonzo say in a low voice. I still hadn't taken my eyes off the brunet in the chair. "I have faith that the two of you will turn up with some good work."

I whispered a thanks and proceeded to make quick work of setting up my equipment. My camera in hand, I waited patiently for the man to be done in the chair.

For the first time, Squall looked up at me. I could see his body stiffen as a small smile tugged at his lips. He stood and walked slowly toward me. The auburn locks of his hair fluttered across his grey-blue eyes. The white of his teeth shined tremendously. His feet on the sand left a trail behind him.

"Are you here for me?" he said with a cheeky smirk. He rested his thumbs in the front pockets of his shorts.

"You know it," I declared, placing one hand on my hip.

"Then let's get to work." He said suddenly. He slipped off his flip flops and sauntered over to the edge of the water. He stepped in and turned to seek my approval.

"Deeper," I said to him, slipping into work mode. I wanted the water crashing over his thighs. He waded a bit further out and I followed, camera in hand. "Alright, here's good."

I stood about knee deep in the water, while Squall waded in water up to his thighs. He eyed a nearby boulder and went to hold onto it. I rolled up my sleeves and made a mental note not to wear my nice clothes on the beach again.

Raising my camera, I went to work.

---

Over the next hour, Squall gave me everything I had asked for out in the ocean. He gave me ten different types of sexy. The tight shorts and thin white tank he wore only added to his splendor. There was a connection between the two of us, a sort of spark. It felt as though it was just he and I alone on this beach. I easily forgot the scores of people who shared the beach with us. Their noise was drowned out as he and I worked. I could feel my blood boil as he looked at me with intense eyes. His body moved and worked sensually against that boulder.

I had to undo my shirt, I was so warm.

"Last frame," I shouted as I captured another piece of the beautiful man before me with my final frame.

I looked up from the viewfinder to see Squall running his hands though his hair. His slender body leaned gracefully as he dried his mane as best he could with his hands. He slowly waded back toward land, his ashen eyes glued to mine.

"Bravo." Alonzo's voice penetrated my thoughts. He smiled and gave a slow, deliberate applause. When Squall made it to the beach, he was wrapped up in a towel. "You were gorgeous, hon."

"Thanks," Squall whispered, accepting a bottle of water from a woman on his right. Beads of water ran from his neck to his back. His hair dripped quite a bit. He looked up at me with a smile.

"Lets get you back to your room and into some dry clothes," Alonzo said, holding out a robe for Squall to step into.

"That sounds good," the smaller man replied as he slipped on his shoes. Wrapping the robe around his slender body tightly, he looked up at me though wet bangs. "How was it?"

I swallowed as he wet his lips. The first word that came to mind to reply to his question was "sexy", but I figured I would say something a bit more appropriate with Alonzo standing near.

"It was fun," I said with a smirk. I tightened my hold on my camera.

He spared a light laugh and turned to make his way back to his room. As I watched the brunet trudge through the sand, I felt Alonzo place his hand on my shoulder.

"You did good, Seifer. I'm impressed." He took the camera out of my hand. "I'd like to go back and have a look at these."

"That's alright with me," I said, slipping my hands in my pockets.

"You're welcome to come, too." Alonzo smiled as he went to put his long hair in a ponytail behind his head.

I nodded and we both followed the trail that the man who went before us had left.

---

Squall's room was very cool and surprisingly dim. When Alonzo and I entered, he was nowhere to be found. I first noticed the neatness of the room, then the size of it. There was one bed, a sofa, and a big screen television. There was even a small kitchen. If I didn't know better, I'd think this was an apartment. Everything was in its place. Even as this was a hotel room, it seemed warmer, like a home. The bed sheets were satin and black. There were numerous pillows. I could see that the curtains were drawn closed.

Alonzo went straight for the laptop at the far corner of the room. As I stepped further in, I could hear the shower running. I took a seat on the sofa and watched Alonzo as he worked to pull the new photos up.

"So this is what a model's room looks like," I said to the air. Alonzo hummed in agreement. "There sure is a lot of shit in here. How long will he be here?"

"There's really no telling," Alonzo said, with his back to me. "Squall returns when he is ready. Luigi rarely has time limits on these shoots. There were some cases when he is on the first flight he can get as soon as he's done working. There were other times that he has spent weeks away. I suppose it also depends on his company." He cast a look over his shoulder.

I nodded. I supposed that made sense. He did what he wanted. He _was_ rich and famous, after all.

The shower halted, and after a few minutes, Squall emerged from the bathroom. He wore a simple cotton tee shirt and blue jeans. Still towel drying his hair, he stood beside the couch next to me.

"Would you like a drink?" he offered, chucking the towel onto the far arm of the sofa.

"Sure," I replied. I watched as he made his way back to the kitchen.

"Water, whiskey, or beer?" He questioned, opening the refrigerator wide.

"Water's fine." I said quietly. I sat with my arms stretched out over the back of the couch.

He returned to my side with a bottle of water for me and a beer for himself. He handed it off to me.

"How'd they come out?" Squall asked, directing his attention to Alonzo. He cracked open his beer.

"Absolutely beautiful," Alonzo said over his shoulder. He paid little attention to us as he clicked though the photos in front of him. I opened my beverage and absently sipped. I looked up when I noticed Squall's ashen eyes on me.

"So how do you like Hawaii?" he questioned, setting his beer on the coffee table. He pulled a throw pillow onto his lap and folded his legs in front of him. His eyes were locked to mine.

"It's very beautiful." I took another sip from the bottle. He let a small smile play over his full lips.

"And you're hotel room?"

"Suitable," I whispered with a sly smile.

"Only suitable?"

"Yeah, I've seen better." He could tell I was kidding.

"Whatever." the brunet breathed with a playful roll of his eyes.

Alonzo suddenly stood from his seat.

"I'm going out for a smoke. You behave Squall," he teased, shoving his hands in his pockets. He crossed the room and was out the front door with a quiet click of the latch. I turned back to face Squall, who was sipping his beer rather quickly.

"Damn. Thirsty?" I said, watching as a bead of liquid slipped down the side of his mouth.

"I was," he mumbled, before letting out a small burp. He grinned sheepishly as a blush crept up the side of his neck. "Sorry."

I chuckled as I grabbed his forgotten towel and went to dab at the younger man's cheek. He lowered his hands to his lap and let me work to clean his slight mess. As I dabbed, I noticed how creamy his light skin was from this distance. There was a natural, pale dusting of pink to his cheeks. His lips were full and flush and I couldn't help but stare as they parted with each breath he took.

"I really did enjoy working with you today," I whispered, raising my eyes to his.

"So did I," he replied, blinking several times as if to regain his composure.

He looked so sexy sitting across from me. It took all my willpower to stay put. I was trying to be polite, but I'm sure we both knew that I was curious to feel his lips against mine. I was curious to feel his hair in my fists and his legs around my waist.

I shuddered.

I changed the subject before my thoughts got the best of me.

"Tell me what Luigi has in store for me," I asserted, locking my hands behind my head. I leaned back on the sofa and watched Squall as he spoke.

"He wants us to do two more shoots while we're down here. For two separate magazines." He sat with his back against the armrest.

"How long will that take?" I questioned.

"Shouldn't take more than a few days," he paused and smirked a devilish grin. "It all depends how good you are."

"How good _I_ am? I can tell you right now, Squall, I'm the best that's ever been," I defended.

"Oh really?" He lifted a thinly shaped eyebrow.

"Yes, really." I didn't let my eyes waver from his as he challenged me.

"Hmmph," was all he said. "Our next shoot is in a few days, but in the meantime, we should relax."

"I think that's a good idea," I said simply. There was a brief silence between us.

"You know," he eventually mumbled, his eyes lowered. He smiled to himself. "I bet you're the best at a lot of things."

I couldn't help blushing at his choice of words.

---

a/n: Wow, this chapter was a little tough. It was fun but I had a hard time trying to figure out where to end it. You can probably tell.. Lol

Anyways… gosh this story has a ways to go. I started it with about 6 chapters in mind and now I can see that it could be well past 10.

I'm trying my hand at a good detailed epic. : )

Please r/r… I'd greatly appreciate it…

I worked my ass off on this chapter…

Thx

xx

09/25/09


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